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Interesting Conversationalist
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 Posted: Tue Sep 25, 2012 7:39 pm
Oh, she loved this. This was her favorite part.
Tilting her head up a little, Petra leaned into the kisses Robert trailed so lovingly, eyes fluttering closed, just reveling in the sensation which was him loving her. She wanted nothing else, it was all she had ever wanted; if she could have realistically demand it all the time, there was no doubt in her mind she would. And THAT wasn't the drugs talking. His fingers slid under her chin, lifting it gently to align their eyes, and she slid them open again to meet them, warm red and cool blue, and for once they were blue like the ocean, not like ice.
"I will only ever be yours," she replied, lifting both hands to run her fingers through his hair and struggling to sit up enough to kiss him gently.
That almost sounded coherent.
"I am so... thirsty though," she replied after a minute of gentle, seemingly insatiable kisses, "You medics are all sadists, I swear."
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Posted: Tue Sep 25, 2012 8:15 pm
Robert was just as impossibly insatiable with Petra as she was with him. All he could manage was a moment's pause before he was back to kissing her anywhere that looked unhurt. He didn't want to risk hurting her with his kisses, so he kept to the relatively unbroken skin, for the most part. But when she finally managed to speak her need, he shot up like a bullet.
"Hold on. I'll get you something, baby." He settled her hands down in front of her, before finally letting go, and getting off the gurney. From that point on, every movement was mad dash, looking for some water or ice or anything that could sate her desire. He found an ice pack, tried to rip it open, and then threw it over his shoulder when he realized just how stupid an idea that was.
THE FAUCET. There was a reliable source of water. And cups beside it, ready for a dumbass like him to find, at last. He turned the faucet on, waded his fingers in the water to test the temperature, and then filled a glass. He was back at Petra's side a moment later, and sat back down on the gurney very carefully. He held the little cup out, but if he tilted it enough to let her drink, he knew he was going to get it all over her. And finding a straw just wasn't an option.
So he put the glass down nearby, and slid his arms around his wife. "If I hurt you, you gotta tell me. Okay? I'ma help you up to drink this, but if anything hurts.."
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Interesting Conversationalist
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Posted: Tue Sep 25, 2012 8:49 pm
The moment Robert pulled away, she really REALLY regretted saying anything at all. Except after that moment's disappointment, she wasn't, because his reaction was just so sweet, so completely darling, that she could not adequately articulate just how much she loved him at that moment.
There wasn't much Petra could do except lie there patiently as her husband practically leaped from her bedside, her eyes following him as he moved around the infirmary like a man with a mission. There was determination in his eyes and set in his brow, which wrinkled his face into such a serious-looking expression, it was almost comical, like a playful puppy guarding his favorite toy. Nothing she could have said, at that point, would have changed anything; she'd seen him like this far too often to know that fighting it was futile. Fighting him in general was futile, but they fought regardless, because both of them were stubborn. But, in general, Robert really was perfect. No, that was wrong, he wasn't perfect, he was far from it, but he was perfect for her. And she wouldn't have it any other way. Because despite (or rather, because of,) his terrible aim, his goofy smile, his infectious laugh, his stubbornness, his tendency to punch other guys who spoke to her, his undying passion for dancing and singing and acting and life, she loved everything about him. If he were perfect, really perfect, he could have found someone kinder, more beautiful, smarter, gentler, funnier, better... someone who deserved him... and she would have spent her entire life with a broken heart.
She really was selfish.
Trying not to look too amused when he tried (and ultimately failed,) to rip open an ice pack (which probably contained a jell anyway,) the Death trainee waited patiently until Robert returned with a cup of water, marveling privately at how funny the large, muscular, tank of a man looked with a little flowery paper cup in one hand. He extended his hand, cup and all, towards her, and she reached for it before he thought better of it, her eyes quizzical until he leaned down, his arms wrapping around her as carefully as if she were the tiniest kitten, or she were made of glass.
Petra didn't tell him that she knew, without a doubt, that he could never hurt her. He wouldn't have been satisfied with that answer. So instead she smiling and promised in a whisper, trusting him completely with her battered frame.
"This always happens, have you noticed?" she murmured after a second, meeting his eyes, "Someday we'll both take a few days off, and I'll do nothing but spoil you and pretend you're sick or injured."
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Posted: Tue Sep 25, 2012 8:57 pm
"I'd like that." Robert laughingly whispered into her skin as he pressed against her, raising her up inch by inch so slowly that it almost seemed like they weren't moving. He kept waiting for her to complain, to ask him to stop, to say something, but nothing came. When he felt like she was high enough, he held her still with one arm, and reached out to get the water with the other. Then he held it up to her lips. "I'll lie in bed all day, and you can bring me food and water, and change my clothes, and bathe me.. yeah. Yeah, I like this idea a lot."
His laughing became dangerous, as it shook them both enough to spill the water, so he whispered a hasty apology and quit it. His hand remained steady from that point onward.
"Just focus on getting better right now, sunshine. That's all I really want. Then we'll work on the rest of forever."
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Interesting Conversationalist
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Posted: Wed Sep 26, 2012 12:52 pm
"Bathing!" she half choked on the water, forgetting that swallowing and talking didn't mix very well together. Between Robert's laughing and her own coughs, which eventually turned into laughs as well, it was likely more of the water ended up on her face than anything else. Her hair and hospital gown clung to her face and body where they'd been soaked through, water glistening where it pooled in the hollow of her throat. Laughing a little harder at his apology, it ended abruptly in a wince as it abused her broken ribs, the medication starting to wear thin. When her expression had smoothed out, and she'd taken another sip of water from the cup, Petra tilted her head away a little to talk, her body limp and doll-like in Robert's arms.
"I forgot about that," she murmured, her tongue sliding out to touch her bruised lips, sighing a little at how the water soothed the cracked skin. Flicking her eyes back to her husband, the Death trainee let them narrow a bit good-naturedly, attempting her best scowl. "That b*****d H better not come anywhere near me."
Not that she imagined he'd want to be, but you never knew -- she wouldn't have put it past him to volunteer just to piss her off. Or, more likely, to piss Robert off.
"I'll be fine," she continued after a few moments, her scowl vanishing as quickly as it came, replaced by the slightest, adoring smile, "I'm in good hands. I have it on good authority Life hunters are the best healers."
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Posted: Wed Sep 26, 2012 1:01 pm
"The best." Robert chuckled, brushing his thumb against her face to wipe the water off. She was so delicate, so fragile, so very hurt. And even then, even when he knew better, she was a constant temptation to him. The spilled water pooled at the base of her throat, and his eyes lidded as he looked at it, bending down to take care of it. His lips found the hollow, and drank the water from her skin. His tongue made sure none had been missed.
And then he slowly set her back down onto her pillow, pulling his arms away once she was safe on the gurney, and backed up very slowly.
"I'm going to let you sleep." His eyes, still heavily lidded, focused sternly on a point of interest on the floor. "I'll come back and check up on you every hour. The more you sleep, the faster everything heals."
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Interesting Conversationalist
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Posted: Wed Sep 26, 2012 1:13 pm
Petra sucked in a tiny breath, holding it as he leaned down to lap up the water they'd both managed to spill, releasing it only after his lips moved away from her throat, tongue no longer laving her skin. Her body relaxed as he lifted his head, and she breathed easy.
The pale-haired girl made no fuss as her husband placed her ever so gently back against the mattress, taking such gentle care to position her comfortable, smoothing back her hair as he rested her head on the pillow. Although she would never admit it, even to herself, she was tired; the visit had taken a lot out of her, catching up with her quickly as he began to retreat. She looked distressed for a second, willing him with her eyes not to leave, but it was gone a moment later; he wasn't the only one who had picked up some acting over the years. It came with having a theatre boyfriend. "Mmmm..." she hummed gently, her eyelids already sinking as she struggled to keep them open, "How did I get so lucky... to have someone like you."
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Posted: Wed Sep 26, 2012 1:21 pm
Robert chuckled softly, a weak smile settling on his face. "Everybody's gotta win the lotto sometimes." His fingers rose up to rest on her lips. "Stop talking now, baby. I'll stay until you're asleep, unless being here keeps you up. Just close your eyes." His fingers lifted off her lips, and pressed against her eyelids as they began to sink, helping them along. Then he leaned down, and kissed each closed eyelid. His hands found hers, and folded them up on her chest, before pressing his own big hands on top of them.
There was a moment of silence, where everything simply seemed normal, that was broken only by the soft sound of his hushed and quiet singing.
"I was running late for work, so I didn't change my shirt.
The evening's drinks left a lingering taste in my mouth
And when I left, you were fast asleep, tangled in the sheets.
And on the bus I could have sworn it was all a dream,
And it didn't happen to me
And then I felt the scrapes from the slippery subway grate.
Oh how you laughed at my complete lack of grace.
But I could not recall
A more perfect fall
Cause when I looked up into your eyes,
It didn't hurt at all.
And I thought, be still my heart.
This could be a brand new start, with you.
And it will be clear
If I wake up and you're still here with me, in the morning."
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Interesting Conversationalist
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Posted: Wed Sep 26, 2012 1:32 pm
The smile that lingered on her lips was her only hint of defiance, Petra voicing no protest when he quieted her. The drugs might have been ebbing a little, the aches in her body starting to climb back into pain, but she was still acutely aware of the sensation of his fingers against her lips, his lips against her eyelids, memorizing the feel and the weight. His hands lifted hers to fold them effortlessly where he wanted them, and she gave his fingers a gentle squeeze, large calloused palms dwarfing her own as they covered her hands.
He had the most beautiful voice, smooth and low. A voice which should have performed in front of more than just her battered form. It was this thought that carried her to sleep, shoved away at the last second so she could enjoy wallowing in the sweetness of the sound.
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Posted: Wed Sep 26, 2012 1:37 pm
Robert stayed long after he'd finished singing, just watching her sleep. He memorized every single bruise, every scrape, every small cut and every large one. He checked her bandages carefully, trying not to disturb her, and made mental note of every bone that seemed broken. Then he brushed her hair out of her face, and simply watched her. She was so undeniably beautiful, even after so much hurt. She was the only thing he had left to protect. The only thing he truly loved.
When her breathing had evened out, and a long time had passed, Robert finally stood up off the gurney, and left his wife to sleep in the infirmary. All the gentleness had left him, remaining there with her, so she wouldn't be alone. The only thing left in Robert's heart was the cold, determined hatred that made him memorize every injury, in order to duplicate them perfectly on Cass.
Petra wouldn't be alone in the infirmary for long.
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